


Memories Set Free

by AspenCe



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Eventual Happy Ending, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Misgendering, Neopronouns, Non-Binary Janus Sanders, Photographic Memory, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 08:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28348593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AspenCe/pseuds/AspenCe
Summary: Some things are just for yourself, things that you don't even show your closest friend, because it belongs to you. Just you. Things like diaries and things like therapy sessions, and for Janus, things like the hidden drawer under zeir window. Things that are meant to stay unseen.Sometimes, people won't give you that.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

Janus hung up zeir hat by the door, shutting said door with zeir foot. Zey released a breath zey didn’t know zey were holding and closed zeir eyes briefly before zey moved to sit down in zeir black velvet armchair. 

Zey tried to stay stiff, but the moment zey weren’t standing anymore zey sank into the cushion and leaned into the back of the armchair, letting zemself take a few minutes to just breathe. In, the smell of books and mint from zeir potted, hanging garden; out, the coppery smell of blood and hints of bile. In, and out, and moving zeir hand to run through zeir slightly damp, dark blonde hair. 

_ “I can’t take it anymore! Everything’s just a  _ **_game_ ** _ to you! Well, news flash, not all of us want to be the  _ **_villain_ ** _!” _

With a sharp inhale, Janus stood and shakily picked up zeir spray bottle from the small coffee table by zeir armchair. This wasn’t working, zey needed a better distraction. 

Zey started zeir rounds, using the three rung ladders on each of zeir bookshelves to reach the pots anchored to the cross-beams under the peaked ceiling. It was easy, a task that required no focus or conscious effort, as zey’d done this a thousand times before. Test the moisture levels of the herbs’ soil, spray accordingly, climb down and move on.

_ “Para’s not… really leaving, right? He can’t. He can’t do that. We’re family! Tell me he’s not leaving Dee!” _

_ “Para isn’t leaving, Remus. He’s going to come back.” _

_ “He really isn’t… is he? He’s… he’s gone.” _

~~_ “I can’t take it anymore!” _ ~~

_ “He’ll - no. He’s not coming back.” _

Zeir hand around the spray bottle tightened. Why now? Why was it coming back to zem now, when it had been years since Virgil left, when everything was  _ perfect  _ and zey were getting over it? What had zey done to deserve this? It shouldn’t bother zem anymore. Zey were fine. Zey didn’t care about Virgil anymore.

Maybe it was the wedding. The callback. Giving Thomas zeir name as though it weren’t painful, to hear zeir true name while still hearing the wrong pronouns.

_ “ ~~Not all of us want to be the villain!”~~ _

_ “Promise me you won’t leave.” _

_ “Remus, I would never hurt you like that. I promise. I won’t leave. Now don’t you go leaving me either, trash rat.” _

_ “Aww, you do care! I promise, Dee. We’ll - we’ll stick together, yeah?” _

~~_ “I can’t take it anymore! Everything’s just a  _ **_game_ ** _ to you!” _ ~~

Janus set down zeir spray bottle again and walked past the armchair to the window seat that looked out on Remus’ side of the Imagination. Zey unclipped zeir capelet, draping it over the back of the armchair, and climbed onto the window seat. It wasn’t soft, because soft things made zeir skin crawl, but it had the right amount of give and the right amount of structure, and the pillows that were piled on either side of the seat were the same. 

Zey settled into the seat, curled up, leaning against the cool glass of the window and the metal framing. For a moment, zey just watched the dark, rolling cumulonimbus, anvil, and mammatus clouds and the falling sheets of rain, split with the occasional flash of lightning and the clattering of thunder. Zey watched the hemlocks bending, leaves being tugged and pulled by the wind, and the crashing of the somewhat distant ocean against the cliffs. 

_ “He ducked out. Para- Anx  _ **_ducked out._ ** _ ” _

_ “WHAT!? Does he even realize how dangerous that is!?  _ **_Thomas doesn’t have any sense of caution or fear!? HOW ARE YOU NOT FREAKING OUT!?_ ** _ ” _

~~_ “Not all of us want to be the villain!” _ ~~

_ “They got him out. He’s… okay. His… he told them his name. It’s… Virgil.” _

Janus turned away from the window and pulled open the inconspicuous drawer hidden underneath the inner sill, movements smooth and breathing regular again. Inside the drawer there were three things. 

There was a large book with a golden, intricate cover design. It depicted a coiled up, two-headed snake, with black rimmed scales and glittering topaz eyes. Beneath the snake was zeir name, carved and painted in gold calligraphy, the line of the  _ J  _ acting as an umbrella over the rest, and the bottom of the  _ s  _ as an accent underneath. There was a locked leather latch over the pages, the key for which was on a ribbon around zeir upper right arm. 

Next to the book was a long wooden box, the lid carved to show threads, criss-crossing, never tangling, a metaphor for the hundreds of intricate webs of lies that Janus was the devoted guardian of.

Behind them both, hidden in shadow, was a half-full glass bottle resting on its side. The liquid, if zey were to hold it to the light, would be nearly transparent. It would be light yellow, and the ripples would be edged with a darker, more golden color. 

Janus pulled out the box and the book, shutting the bottle back away when zey shut the drawer.

~~_ “Everything’s just a  _ **_game_ ** _ to you!” _ ~~

Zey undid the ribbon around zeir upper arm. It was over zeir sleeve, so zey didn’t have to push it up or take off zeir shirt. Zey fit the golden key into the book’s lock, turned it, and opened the cover.

The first page was blank, with a note in the center. 

_ If you are reading this, and you are not Janus Deceit, close the book. It’s not meant for you. But if you’re reading this, I suppose you don’t care about respecting privacy, so if you turn the page just be aware that there’s no going back. _

Janus smiled slightly at zeir calligraphic, handwritten note, and turned the page. Just like every time zey opened this book, zeir own face looked back at zem - a drawing of a reflection, twenty years old, so the face was young. Cheeks plump. Eyes bright. Mouth smiling, a gap between zeir left central incisor and zeir left canine. Well, fang, but zey hadn’t known that back then.

It was a good drawing. A brilliant one, in fact. If it weren’t for the blurred edges and the wisps of color that floated in the background, zey would’ve called it a photograph, a perfectly captured memory. A face that zey could almost believe would blink and then poke out its tongue, smirking mischievously. When zey first drew it, it was nowhere near so perfect; it was nothing more than a circle with eyes, hair, and poorly drawn scales. 

But as the years went by, Janus had grown, and zey had redrawn it every few weeks, slowly bringing it closer and closer to reality. Zey had redone nearly all of zeir drawings multiple times, but this was the one zey had redone and improved on the most. It was the first drawing, the one that showed the memory of the first time Janus had really seen zeir own face. Before zey realized that the scales were more of a curse. Before zey started to realize that no matter how much zey loved them, others would always see them as a reason to resent zem, a reason to call zem a liar and shut zem out.

At the bottom of the drawing was a sentence written over two decades ago, in poor handwriting that was hardly legible, but still as familiar as zeir own face in the mirror. 

_ Im Self, whats your name? _

The first words that zey had said when zey first met the others.

Janus smiled and turned the page. This one was King, a black shirt and pants, a red sash; hazel eyes, mouth opened in a shout. His light blonde eyebrows frowning. The gold-painted staff that he used to carry around all the time pointing accusatorily at a strangler fig tree. King and the tree were the only parts of the drawing that were in detail; the rest was just clouds of green and blue, wisps of gray.

_ Stupid tree! You hurted Tomas! I gots to slay you now! _

The next page was a drawing of Virgil, cheeks puffed out, lips pouting, violet eyes nearly glowing in the sunlight. His hoodie was gray and lavender, the first one, long before his gray and black one or his purple patched one. The aglets of his hoodie were both in his mouth, a habit that he hadn’t grown out of until he was much older.

_ I dont wanna go to scool! Its scary and I wanna stay with mom! _

Zey turned the pages. One after another. The moment Patton appeared, the day that King became Roman and Remus, the time that Logan finally came out of his room after years of existing quietly. 

Then zey reached the first page where things grew dark. It was Patton, eyes glowing icy blue, hands on his hips and mouth turned down disapprovingly; Logan and Roman behind him, Remus and Virgil as the recipients of his anger. Janus had been there too… but zey couldn’t see zeirself, could zey? No. These were drawn from zeir memories, exactly how zey remembered it - the frozen, crystal clear pictures in zeir mind, set free on paper.

This was one of the more erratically drawn pictures, colors a little too sharp, eyes a little too bright, too much conflicting colors around the corners of the table, the lines of the walls, the dark gray rectangles of picture frames, the light a little too dim and the shadows too deep. Janus hadn’t been able to redraw this one beyond four times, because zey could only handle the reminder of the Divide when zey were already deep in zeir own mind and anger.

There were teardrops on the paper, little circles that were a little bit grayer, wrinkling those small parts of the page.

Zeir eyes locked on the words written at the bottom, in shaky, jagged lettering. 

_Get out. Leave, GET OUT, you’re making Thomas a_ ~~ ** _bAD person!_**~~ **_HE CAN’T BE A BAD PERSON!_**

Janus sucked in a breath and slammed zeir eyes shut, tensing as the flashback consumed zem.

_ “Not all of us want to be the villain!” _

_ “Everything’s just a  _ **_game_ ** _ to you! Well, news flash, not all of us want to be the villain!” _

_ “Para’s not… really leaving,  _ _ right?” _

Zey pried zeir eyelids back open and picked up the book, flipping through the pages without letting zeir gaze linger any longer on any particular drawing, even though most of them were bright, happy memories - Remus showing zem a creation dripping with slime and pulsing strangely, Virgil sitting next to zem as they watched a crappy horror movie, the moment zey realized that zey weren’t cisgender and coming out to Remus, the birthday parties, the halloween movies, the adventures - zey couldn’t handle any more reminders of those darker moments, not right now.

Then zey saw a flash of purple in zeir skimming, and zey stopped flipping. Zey turned back a few pages without really looking at the drawings, and then zey set the book back down. 

_ “I can’t take it anymore!” _

Virgil. 

Violet eyes flashing, eyeshadow streaked down Virgil’s cheeks, a purple glow radiating from him in spiderwebs of light, shadows accenting one half of his angry, tearful face, the clench of his fists, the tension in his jaw. Swirling black and purple smoke burning where the walls turned to meet the ceiling, two small green eyes in the shadows, a trembling lip and hunched shoulders. Violet eyes flashing in the hallway, front of the door,  _ that door,  _ the one with light pouring under the crack, the one that led to the Light Side.

Janus blinked away the stinging in zeir eyes. Zey opened the box and selected a white pencil, zeir symbol etched on the side. 

Then zey shifted, adjusted zeir position so that the book was propped up by zeir legs and zeir back was leaning into the pillows, angled so that the flashes of lightning lit up the drawing every few moments.

Zey lightly put the sharp point of the white pencil to the part of Virgil’s right eye just above the bottom eyelid and carefully started to adjust the drawing once again.

* * *

Janus felt a tug in zeir chest, urgent and familiar - Remus needed zem. Or maybe he didn’t, it could be anything from life-threatening to a bloody caterpillar that he wanted to show zem. But either way, zey put back all the pencils zey’d been using and put the lid back on the box. Zey went to lock the book shut, but the tug came back harder than before, and zey just stood up and followed the summons.

Zey’d left zeir book out in the open before, it wasn’t anything new. No one went in zeir room anyway, so zey felt pretty comfortable leaving without having it properly shut away.

When Janus popped up, zey found zemself in Remus’ room, by the acid-green door that led to the storming Imagination. Zey looked around, confusion and worry on zeir face, having expected Remus to tackle zem as soon as zey arrived.

“Jan-” gasped a weak voice. Zey looked down and saw Remus, curled up and shaking, completely soaked in rain and blood. 

Zeir blood ran ice-cold. Zey dropped down, rolling Remus onto his back, looking over him to try and find the wound.

“What happened?” zey demanded, a hint of fear in zeir voice. Remus had gotten hurt before, even severely injured, but it never got any less worrying. “Remus, what happened?”

Remus grinned weakly and coughed, wincing, just as Janus found four gashes in various locations on his torso. “Just - a mob of - of rabid witches.”

Zey laughed, relaxing just a little bit at the familiar joking, and summoned a couple rolls of bandages and wound-cleaning supplies. Zey’d done this enough times before that when it came to peeling off the Duke’s clinging shirt, it only took a few minutes and just a bit of concentration.

“Why do you insist on doing things like this? It’s definitely perfect weather for murdering rabid witches,” zey shook zeir head, knowing full-well that zey were never going to sway Remus from doing it again. It was the thought that mattered, right? Zey snorted.

Remus giggled, then sneezed and yelped at the pain. 

Janus had gotten the shirt off, and now zey started cleaning things up with a towel, soaking up the blood so that zey’d be able to wrap it without immediately having to change the bandages. 

“You know what, Rem?” zey asked rhetorically, lifting Remus up just enough to get underneath him. “One of these days, you’re going to come back all bloody, you’re going to summon me, and I’m just going to laugh as I patch you up. I won’t even give you any painkillers.”

They both knew it was a lie. Janus would never stop caring about Remus, would never leave him in pain no matter how avoidable or stupid the cause. But, again, it was the thought that mattered. (Of course it was a joke. Janus loved Remus; they were best friends, closer than best friends, they were queerplatonic partners if they were to put a label on it - which they didn’t.)

“Ooh, you  _ love  _ me~” Remus sing-songed, giggling, as soon as Janus was done getting rid of most of the blood and disinfecting it.

Zey rolled zeir eyes fondly, which was somehow possible. “You already knew that, Remus.”

Remus’ nose wrinkled, and his cheeks went green, which was his version of blushing and was  _ totally not  _ endearing  _ at all.  _ He stuck out his tongue and Janus snickered, starting to wrap the bandages around his torso. The blood was still coming, albeit slower than before, so the bandages were immediately stained, but that was their entire purpose so Janus didn’t care.

Zey took a moment to appreciate the fact that Remus summoned zem instead of popping up in zeir room and bleeding out all over zeir clean wooden floor. It would’ve taken hours to clean up that much blood, and would still stain the floor no matter how much borax and lemon juice zey used.

Then zey resumed wrapping him up. 

“Yeah, but it’s so sappy, Jan!” Remus complained, clearly feeling a little better already now that he wasn’t bleeding out anymore. He always healed so quickly - and his heart definitely pumped out more blood than most people’s did. Or was it that he had multiple hearts? Janus was sure that Remus had told zem something like that before… but then again, Remus was delusional and probably could get a permanent spot in a psychiatric hospital (and prison) if they were real people.

That was okay, though, because Janus would break him out and they’d take down the government.

Wow, zey really were sappy.

“It’s not sappy,” Janus said, smirking. “It’s the truth.”

Remus whined in complaint, flushing green again. “You- asdfgh- you can’t just  _ do that!”  _ he spluttered, struggling up. Janus helped him sit up against the wall, supporting his upper back and head. 

“And why not?” zey asked teasingly.

“‘Cause you’re forgetting that  _ you’re  _ super hot and adorable at the same time when you’re being sappy like that!” Remus answered, smirking at the tables were turned and Janus’ human side flushed bright red.

“Urgh,” zey said eloquently. “See, this is why I don’t even try anymore.”

Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Fine, you’re cute.”

“J-anus!” Remus gasped in over-the-top offense. “How dare you! You’d better cuddle me all night or I’ll never forgive you!”

They both knew it was a lie, again. But Janus played along, because zey knew that Remus just wanted an excuse for cuddles. “Oh, alright. I wouldn’t want to risk your eternal resentment.”

* * *

Patton turned another page in the book he found in Janus’ room.

He hadn’t come here to snoop, really, but he’d been looking for Janus to ask him to apologize to Roman for calling him evil, and then he couldn’t find him. So he’d looked, between all the bookshelves and in the bed and the armchair and then the window seat, and then he’d seen a really odd…  _ good  _ drawing of… Virgil. Looking upset.

And really, Patton couldn’t stop there, he had to know why Janus was drawing pictures of his son yelling and crying.

But then he’d gotten sucked in, by the art and the words, and by the temptation of finally getting some insight into Janus’ mind. 

It was almost two hours later that Patton reached the beginning of the book, having read from the open page back, and two hours later that he finally realized that  _ hey,  _ maybe he shouldn’t have done that.

_ If you are reading this, and you are not Janus Deceit, close the book. It’s not meant for you. But if you’re reading this, I suppose you don’t care about respecting privacy, so if you turn the page be aware that there’s no going back. _

_ Welcome to my Book of Memories. _

He sucked in a breath, feeling guilt hit him like a train,  _ nope, not that analogy -  _ and shut the book quickly. Then he opened it again, turning back to the page he found it on, and stood up, sinking out as fast as possible. 

He really, really hoped that he hadn’t just done something irreversibly bad.


	2. Chapter 2

There were a lot of things that Patton hadn’t known about Janus that he knew now, and because he’d gotten that information by invalidating his - their - no, it was zeir, wasn’t it? - by invalidating zeir privacy, he couldn’t do anything with it unless he wanted to be caught.

He felt icky. No, worse than icky, he felt hot and uncomfortable and this whole situation just rubbed him the wrong way.

He was mixing the cookie dough a little more aggressively than necessary, taking out his anxiousness and ickiness on the poor mixture, not even caring that chocolate chip cookie dough wasn’t supposed to have the consistency of cream cheese. It was about eleven, everything was dark and quiet - except for the kitchen, obviously, and except for the sound of the spoon scraping on the side of the plastic bowl.

Tiring of that, Patton stopped stirring and started looking through the drawers for an ice cream scooper, hands shaking a little.

_ His own eyes, shining a cold, bright blue - face twisted in anger - standing protectively in front of two others - looming threateningly over three -  _ **_HE CAN’T BE A BAD PERSON!_ **

He bit his lip, but it hurt, so he stopped. He hadn’t thought about the Divide for years… and he certainly hadn’t seen it from Janus’ perspective before. But knowing how he- zey’d seen it, he suddenly felt another crushing wave of guilt and nausea settle over him. 

_ “Janus? Do you think there’s a limit, on how many times someone can say sorry, before you have to admit… that they’re just bad for you?” _

_ “Oh, definitely not, I’d just love for someone to ruin Thomas’ life one apology at a time. ...The reality is that it depends.” _

_ “On what?” _

_ “Where to start? How many things have they had to apologize for? How frequently do they have to apologize for things? How terrible were the things that they did? One of the biggest factors, in my very humble opinion, is whether or not they seem to be making an honest effort to do better.” _

Patton had to apologize too many times. He’d done so many things wrong, while thinking that they were right… and he’d hurt too many people to be a good person. He’d done bad things. He’d caused the Divide, he’d split King, he’d ruined Thomas’ dreams of going to the callback, he’d made Thomas drain his life away for other people, all because he was supposed to be Morality and he just couldn’t figure out what that meant.

He found the scooper and started scooping up the dough. It was a little too liquidy to even matter that he had the right tool; he probably could’ve used a spoon and had the same results. He paused, almost certain that that had to be a metaphor, but he couldn’t figure out what it was so he shook it off.

_ “Even if that effort… is counter-productive?” _

_ “That does sound very annoying… Again, it depends.” _

If Janus knew what he’d done, zey would never forgive him. That note on the first page -  _ close the book, it’s not meant for you, there’s no going back -  _ said as much. Patton had looked through the whole thing, or most of it, and he’d essentially seen Janus’ entire life, from when they were all twenty to when they were six. He’d seen and learned so  _ much,  _ and he knew that if the positions were reversed, he’d never forgive himself.

Patton slid the tray of liquidy cookies into the oven and closed the door, feeling that uncomfortably warm, slimy feeling spike up again. Guilt and shame and fear all in one, mixed with mixed feelings about all the things he now knew about Janus that he shouldn’t know. Sometimes… sometimes it really, really sucked being the heart and emotions.

He couldn’t pretend to not know what he was feeling.

As Patton went to the living room to put on an episode of something or other while he waited for the cookies to finish baking, he thought about what he could possibly do. There were two words, the only ones that he could think of, and they filled him with that icky feeling and made his heart stammer faster.  _ What now?  _

There were two solutions, two ways to do it, and Patton hated both as much as he hated spiders. 

He could tell Janus. He could come clean.  _ “Hey, Janus… I went to your room, but you weren’t there, and um… I know I shouldn’t have… but I read your book. I’m sorry, I know it’s really personal and I betrayed your trust, but I don’t know how to fix this… Is there anything I can do to make it right?” _

But even if that was the morally right thing, the thing that he’d push Thomas to do in his situation, it could make things worse. For all he knew, Janus would be perfectly fine, with no idea that his - no, zeir rival had basically read zeir diary. Zey would never know, and Patton would just never mention that he’d done it. Then maybe years in the future when they were best friends he could tell Janus and zey would forgive him because it was all in the past! 

So, if Patton kept it a secret, he might be protecting Janus’ feelings and making zem still have that safe spot, but he’d be lying; and if he told h- zem, he might be pushing the last straw onto the camel’s back, but he’d be being honest.

The oven timer beeped, and he jumped, realizing that he had no idea what he’d been watching for the last half hour. He rushed to the kitchen and turned off the timer, grabbed some mittens, and pulled the cookie tray out of the oven.

He set it down on the counter with a clatter that was a little too loud for midnight, and he flinched. The icky feeling came back even worse, for no particular reason.

_ “Come on, Thomas,  _ **_lying_ ** _ is wrong!” _

But Janus would understand… right? H- zey wanted Thomas to lie, and zey’d proved that lying wasn’t inherently wrong… and that it was okay to be selfish… so… maybe zey would understand? If Patton lied? 

Wait!  _ Aha!  _ What if Patton just forgot!? Sleep helped with memory, right? So if he just focused on forgetting what he’d read, and didn’t sleep for… a week, then he’d forget! Then it would make everything better, because he wouldn’t know everything that Janus drew and wrote in that book of zeirs! He already knew he wouldn’t be able to forget Janus’ pronouns, that drawing of the Divide, and the note at the beginning, but he already couldn’t remember most of the rest of it in his panic - though he got the feeling that he’d be able to remember if he tried - and that was good!

Logan said that the more someone told themself something, the more they’d believe it was true, so maybe if Patton just kept telling himself that he didn’t remember any of it it would work?

Wait, that was it! Logan! He could go ask Logan what the right thing to do was!

Nodding decisively, Patton stuffed a cookie in his mouth (ignoring the fact that it was like a rock, too salty, and slightly burnt) and sank out.

* * *

“Hey Logan!”

Logan glanced up from  _ The Ego and His Own: The Case of the Individual Against Authority  _ by Max Stirner to look at Patton, unimpressed with the side’s lack of respect for knocking at the door, or at the very least warning them of his presence. 

“Patton,” they acknowledged dully, pushing up their glasses reflexively. They still couldn’t quite wrap their head around how little they’d been listened to in the last video. How little Patton had listened to them. How little they’d been allowed to participate in the discussion at all. So, yes, they didn’t feel guilty for feeling a little annoyed at Patton. “What is it that you need?”

Patton shifted, fiddling with the sleeve of his cardigan. Logan noted the movement and put together easily that Patton was worried about something. It wasn’t surprising, with the disastrous ending to the last discussion they’d had. It was surprising, though, that Patton was here instead of with Roman. From what they’d seen, Roman was doing far worse than any of them right now.

“Well, um, I had a question,” the side said finally, and the smile that accompanied that statement didn’t meet his eyes. 

Logan raised an eyebrow, wishing that they could just tell Patton to go away - but they were still too conscious of others’ feelings, so they didn’t say that. Instead, they asked, trying not to sound as dismissive as they wanted to be, “What is it?”

“Um, let’s say… you did something that you shouldn’t have,” Patton started, avoiding eye contact and fidgeting in a way that suggested discomfort. Logan frowned and set their book aside, sensing that this would be a longer conversation than just a quick answer to a simple question. “And that if you tell the person you did that something to, you might be hurting them more than if you don’t say anything… What would the right thing to do be?”

Logan’s mind lit up, nearly whirring as it worked to piece together what Patton was truly asking, what he could possibly be referring to. 

The “person” couldn’t be Roman or them, because all of that hurt was already at the surface, out for any onlooker to observe and study to their satisfaction. The “person” was in all probability not Virgil, though it wasn’t implausible, and was almost certainly not Remus, because they hadn’t seen the darker side of Creativity in a while.

That narrowed things down to Thomas - or Janus. 

What could Patton have done to either of them? Perhaps he was referring to the Divide? Logan had no doubt that Janus knew about that - it would be concerning if he didn’t, because he was there - so if that were the case, he was talking about Thomas. 

It was the most likely theory they had based on the information provided, so Logan proceeded with that in mind. “The sooner they would mention it, the sooner the person they hurt would be able to think through it and then forgive them, though it wouldn’t be a guarantee that they would do it sooner depending on what the harmful action or information was. However, if they would be able to function better if they did not know, and the action didn’t have any direct consequences, then it’s possible that committing a lie of omission would be the best option for their sake. How bad was this, theoretical, action?”

Patton grimaced, still not making eye-contact. “Bad. Like… ruining everything bad.”

Logan ruled out Thomas then. Thomas was not the kind of person who would ever stay mad at Patton for longer than a few days, not unless he did something truly despicable.

So. What had Patton done to Janus?

* * *

Janus returned to zeir room after spending the night cuddling with a progressively more delirious Remus, smiling as zey closed zeir door quietly behind zem. Severe injuries aside, this had probably been the best way for zem to feel better after the whole… wedding fiasco. Zey felt better, having been hugged nearly to death by an octopus rat of a best friend (the best kind). 

Zey decided that now was a better time than any to fix things up with the light sides, especially with Roman - zey probably shouldn’t have called him evil, looking back. The image of Roman’s disbelieving pain, hidden behind his crimson eyes and matching fury, the slight tremble in his hands, and the tension in his jaw rose up in zeir mind with perfect clarity, and zey knew that zey’d be adding another drawing to zeir book as soon as zey had time.

For now, Janus just flicked zeir hat off the hook by the door, catching it in zeir hand and twirling it before fitting it over zeir light blonde curls. Zey grinned a little and kept walking, enjoying the peaceful, clear air of zeir room compared to Remus’ somewhat moldy smell.

Running zeir gloved fingers over the spines of the books on zeir shelf as zey walked, Janus hummed to zemself, a random amalgamation of different tunes that soon settled on the melody of  _ Razzle Dazzle,  _ one of zeir favorite songs. (Zey’d never admit it, but zeir favorite was Remus’ original,  _ Forbidden Fruit.  _ And no, zey were  _ definitely  _ not biased.)

Then zey reached zeir armchair, and zey picked up zeir capelet, draping it over zeir shoulders and clipping it in place. With a few tugs and adjustments, it was perfect, and Janus’ eyes slid and locked on the open book on zeir window seat.

The Imagination wasn’t stormy today, instead it was snowing, which although it didn’t make any sense in real life this was  _ literally  _ the Imagination. The trees were stiff with frost and snow, the ocean silent for once, and the sky just a blur of dancing white. The window actually provided light.

The smell of mint in the air was clearer than ever, and maybe that was a side effect of the ice-cold window, but Janus could also smell the other smaller, less prominent scents that zey usually didn’t notice. There was mint, of course; the smell of parchment, of ink; and there was also the smell of lemon, cocoa, and rosemary.

Well. Those were the expected scents.

Then there was the odd smell of something… else. Zey couldn’t quite place it, but it was distinctly not normal, for zem or for Remus. 

Janus blinked, eyes scanning the window seat as zeir face settled into a cold, neutral expression and zeir shoulders set. 

See, zey were a very clean person. It was comparable to Logan’s obsessive orderliness, though zey were clean in an entirely different manner. Zey appreciated chaos and disorder, but zey did not appreciate the ruining of an aesthetic. Hence, not wishing to clean blood from zeir floorboards, and not leaving just anything out. 

Janus had to be ready to pull on a confident, villainous persona at any moment, in order to preserve zeir dignity and reputation. Zey had to keep zeir room clean to go with the put-together persona that went with being Deceit. That meant zeir books were organized, though in a sort of organized chaos, sorted by importance rather than alphabetically or by subject. That meant zeir plants could not have cute flowers. That meant zey kept a spare hat and capelet on several hooks around zeir room. 

That meant that when zey sat down, zey had to make it so that when zey stood again, there was no sign of zeir presence.

That also meant that the pillows on the window seat should not be dislodged from their positions, piled up on one side rather than arranged symmetrically. 

Janus’ eyes betrayed nothing of zeir internal clockwork. They were smooth. If zey were looking in a mirror, it would be like looking at a frozen lake, black and endless, though one side was hazel and the other was shining gold. 

Janus knelt down fluidly, in a movement that was almost unnaturally graceful. Zeir gloved hands moved precisely, in a motion that seemed as though it had been practiced a thousand times, turning the open book around and sliding underneath both sides. Zey lifted it up smoothly as they stood again, and once more there was no hesitation, no jerkiness, to zeir movements. The frosted mirror reflected back a fragmented image of Deceit, cold, unflinching, apathetic. The calm before a storm, where everything else was holding its breath, waiting for the tension to snap.

The book was opened to the page that zey’d left off on, and although Deceit could not find any suggestion of subterfuge, zey knew - just like a compass knew where north was, just like how zeir eyes could track the smallest movement - that something was different.

Deceit was calm. Zey were a calm person. But when zey were angry, zey were not calm. Zey were loud, zey were desperate, zey stressed zeir words and fought the urge to yank at zeir hair and scream until the world fell silent. 

Zeir anger was like watching firecrackers, bright and fast, burning out in minutes, making the onlookers flinch and watch until zey were done. 

_ “I don’t want Thomas to be disadvantaged in a world where you can  _ **_die_ ** _ for not following the laws made in the  _ **_name_ ** _ of a  _ **_lie_ ** _.” _

_ “But you’re still missing the point!” _

_ “I’m  _ **_trying_ ** _ to teach you a  _ **_lesson_ ** _ but it’s  _ **_literally impossible_ ** _!” _

_ “Oh Roman, thank god you don’t have a mustache, otherwise between you and Remus - I wouldn’t know who the evil twin is.” _

Deceit’s bi-colored gaze shifted to look at its reflection in the window. There was no tension in its shoulders. Its jaw was loose, lips closed, neither tilted up nor down. Still. Silent. Calm. Its eyes were smooth, glittering with their heterochromatic colors, its golden iris flashing brighter than a bonfire, though still as empty as though there was nothing behind them.

It closed the book and locked it, putting it and the box away in their drawer in the same motion, and twirling the golden key over its fingers and into its pocket.

Its fingers wrapped around the cold, dusty glass of the bottle cast in shadow, pulling it out of the drawer and tucking it into its pocket as it slid the drawer shut once more.

Then it turned and started walking.

Deceit wasn’t angry.

No, there was no ear-ringing explosion of anger, no clenched fists and no feeling. Deceit was not angry.

Deceit was  _ perfectly calm. _

* * *

There was a knock on Virgil’s door. He ignored it.

“Anxiety.”

He wanted to ignore it even more now. Why on earth would Deceit think it was a good idea to knock on his door after  _ that  _ fiasco? He pulled his blanket further up over his head, letting out a deep sigh at his exasperation with it all.

“Tell me. Have you left your room in the last twenty-four hours?” 

Funny. Deceit sounded cold, like, _icy_ cold. What right he had to taking that tone with _him_ of all people, Virgil had no idea, but he didn't care right now.

He rolled his eyes and sat up enough to yell, “No! Why would you care?”

“No reason.” He could almost hear the cold, dismissive shrug, and it absolutely infuriated him as much as it relieved him to not have to talk any more than that.

Virgil waited, but Deceit must’ve left, because there was no further conversation. 

* * *

_ Knock, knock, knock.  _

Roman looked up from his hands to look at his door, vision blurred. This was… the second person to visit him since… the… disaster. He hadn’t opened the door to the first, so he didn’t plan on opening it now.

“Who is it?” he called out, voice lilting, with a hint of amusement in his voice. Even though his voice should be shaky, broken, even though there was nothing to laugh about - Roman had to keep up his persona or they wouldn’t respect him anymore. Not that they ever did… 

_ “I thought I was your hero!” _

_ “Y-you are!” _

_ “We love you…” _

_ “Right.” _

“Deceit,” came a frigidly calm voice from behind the door. Roman froze, heart rate spiking. The snake - what was  _ he  _ doing here!? Why couldn’t he just - just - leave him  _ alone!  _ And why, on the constellations, was there an undercurrent of something dark and biting in his voice!?

“What do  _ you  _ want?” he demanded bitterly, standing up and summoning his sword at his hip just in case the  _ manipulator  _ decided to come in without his permission. He rubbed the tears off of his face roughly. “I have nothing to say to you,  _ Deceit,”  _ he spat viciously, “So just leave me alone for once!”

There was nothing but silence, and for a moment Roman thought that the snake had turned tail and run, but then he turned around and Deceit was standing there, perfectly postured without a hint of emotion in him. Roman jolted, drawing his sword with a scraping hiss, and wielding it in a fighting stance. “Ever heard of respecting  _ privacy,  _ Deceit? Maybe you should  _ try it  _ sometime.”

Deceit went even colder at that, and without acknowledging Roman’s pointed insult, he stepped closer and said icily, “Tell me that you’ve been in my room for the last twenty-four hours.”

Roman’s mind translated it in his head. He wouldn’t be so foolish as to believe what Deceit said at face value again.  _ Tell me that you haven’t been in my room in the last twenty-four hours. _

Roman scowled and spat, “I haven’t been in your room.  _ Ever. _ Why would a prince be in the lair of a villain?”

He seemed to accept that, nodding and stepping back again, neutral expression loosening just enough to let Roman see desperation and the faintest hint of anxiety. Roman’s brows furrowed, and he wondered what was going on with the liar. “What, did someone take something of yours? Your villainous plans? A pet snake?” His tone was bordering on amused.

Deceit breathed deeply and replied, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair, “No. Someone… saw something they shouldn’t have seen.” Roman’s mind immediately jumped to  _ villainous schemes,  _ but the snake continued, making eye contact, “My memories. Nearly all of them. I’m sure you know how cruel that is, that they purposely ignored the warning in favor of taking away all of my privacy, when I, being a  _ snake  _ and a  _ liar,”  _ he was breathing heavily now, “Need it.”

Roman was tempted to laugh. Tempted to feel victorious, glad, that someone had managed to unsettled the villainous side so - but Deceit looked truly upset. Right after revealing his name… and having it laughed at… having nearly all of his memories seen by another side was a whole other level of weakness that he no doubt had not been prepared for. Even if Roman was mad, furious even, at the half-snake side, he wasn’t  _ cruel.  _ He wasn’t going to kick someone while they were down, no matter how much they might deserve it.

In his own words,  _ “Ever heard of respecting privacy?”  _

So he didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile. He didn’t spit out an insult. He just watched Deceit - no, Janus - take another deep breath in, settle back into apathy, and start walking to the door.

He watched him stop, hand hovering over the door handle, and turn around to give him an unreadable look. “I’m not sorry for calling you the evil twin. There is an evil twin. There’s good and evil, and nothing in between.”  _ I’m sorry for calling you the evil twin. There isn’t an evil twin. There’s no good and evil, just everything in between. _

Roman nodded solemnly, and words formed in his mind, slipping out of his lips before he could think about it. “I apologize for laughing at your name. It fits you.”

Janus looked back to the door and paused again before pulling it open and stepping out, closing it softly behind him with a click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may go back and edit this part when I finish the third one, but probably not.


	3. Chapter 3

Someone rapped on the door, a brisk knock that somehow carried a feeling of both leisure and purpose. Two pairs of eyes looked up, two different shades of blue, behind twin black-rimmed glasses. 

The air felt thick, almost solid, with the tension it brought. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall.

A voice came from outside the door, lilting and calm. It felt like ice. “Logic, Morality, I would like to discuss something with you… perhaps over wine?”

Logic’s eyes met Morality’s. They were collected, curious, yet apprehensive. They knew that there was something wrong, but they didn’t know what, exactly. Their interest was fighting their concern, and they seemed to be closing with a draw. Morality was rigid, a too-bright smile pasted on his face. His heartbeat was faster than the ticking of the clock, and his eyes were wide, pupils small. 

_ Tick. Tock. _

“Certainly,” Logic’s unwavering voice rose in the thick silence. “You may come in, the door is unlocked.”

“I know.”

Zey were standing on the other side of the table, as naturally as though zey had been invited minutes ago. In zeir hands was a foggy glass bottle, filled halfway with a golden liquid. Deceit set it down with a clink. 

Morality swallowed, smile slipping away. 

Logic blinked. They registered the new information and nodded in acknowledgment, shifting in their armchair so that they were facing the table and Deceit. Their curiosity won.

Deceit made eye contact with Morality and smiled. It burned. He flinched. “Please, take a seat my dear Morality.”

With a wave of zeir gloved hand, there was another armchair, identical to Logic’s. It stood directly behind Morality. He tripped, unbalanced, and landed sitting. 

Logic adjusted his glasses. 

Deceit’s smile was altogether unnatural, too sharp and too graceful. 

Morality tapped his fingertips on the arm of the chair.

Deceit poured a single crystalline glass of shimmering, translucent gold.

“What did you want to discuss with us?” Logic asked neutrally, watching the scene in intrigue and mild worry. 

Deceit’s eyes flashed, though zeir smile didn’t falter. Zey moved gracefully around the table so that zey were standing by Logic’s left side. When their eyes met, it was electric, a stab of fire and then an understanding. “I believe there has been an… infraction, of sorts.” Zeir tone was mild, albeit cold, but Morality tensed as though it had been a threat. 

Zey moved behind Logic’s armchair, moving to the other side, where zey could meet eyes with Morality with nothing in the way.

“An infraction of privacy,” zey continued.

Morality’s eyes welled with tears of fear and guilt. His chin and bottom lip trembled. The tapping sped up.

_ Tick.  _

_ Tock… _

“I’m s-so-sorry!” Patton bursted, tears shaking free of his eyelashes and sliding down his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to, I promise, I didn’t see the note until it was too late and I just wasn’t thinking and I know that doesn’t change anything but I’m sorry - ” he shook with the force of his sobs and gasped painfully so that he could continue. “And I don’t know how to fix it but I  _ always know how to fix it,  _ and I don’t but I should and I ruined everything and I’m just  _ not good at being Morality!” _

Logan sat in stunned silence, the ticking of the clock drowned out by the sobs from Patton and their own rapidly spiraling thoughts.

Janus placed a firm hand on Patton’s shoulder. Zeir other hand held an empty yellow glove in its loose hold. 

“Patton, you are not a bad Morality.”

Zey moved zeir hand from Patton’s shoulder to delicately pick up the glass of liquid gold from the table. Zey were almost sitting on the arm of the chair, close to the other. Zey gently held the glass out to him.

“Drink,” Janus’ voice was soft and patient, soothing. Logan watched, absorbed by the words, not quite feeling like they were a part of this moment but not looking away. 

Patton looked up, eyes wide. “Wh-What is it?”

This time, Janus’ smile was tired, yet real. No hidden malice, no sharp edges, no ice. “It will make you forget. Do worry, it won’t only take the last eighteen hours or so. You won’t still remember the… events, with Thomas and Roman and… myself.”

The first sentence was a truth, and the others were reflections, lies that simply had to be held up to a mirror to be deciphered. Logan wondered where the liquid had come from. They wondered why Janus had it.

They wondered why the bottle had already been half empty.

But that could wait.

Patton nodded, rubbing away his tears. He took the cup in both hands and let out a deep breath that he hadn’t known he was holding. This was it. He hadn’t… he hadn’t ruined everything. His actions weren’t going to destroy everything that he’d worked for. 

Another tear slipped down his face, but stopped before it fell. 

The relief, the gratefulness, the anxiety over what was to come - it felt like a weighted blanket over his shoulders. Comforting. It wasn’t over… But it was going to be okay. He’d made a mistake, and he hadn’t made up for it, but this was going to stop that mistake from growing into a misstep that would just keep growing until it festered and grew thorns, cutting away at the life he’d worked so hard to build. 

“Thank you, Janus,”

He raised the cup to his lips, closed his eyes, and drank.

* * *

_ Some things are just for yourself, t _ _ hings that you don't even show your closest friend, because it belongs to you. Just you. Things like diaries and things like therapy sessions, and for Janus, things like the hidden drawer under zeir window. Things that are meant to stay unseen. _

Logan told Patton what he’d done, and he’d apologized to Janus, and promised that he’d be more careful about privacy in the future.

Roman invited Janus to act out a play with him, and after some persuasion, Remus was invited as well. He was the second person Janus told about zeir pronouns and gender identity.

Virgil came around, eventually. It was hard to stay mad at someone who poked out their tongue while they drew portraits of everyone from memory and beamed with pride (then suppressed it and acted nonchalant) when he said it wasn’t terrible.

Janus was the first person Logan told about preferring they/them pronouns.

_ Some secrets are meant to be shared. _

Janus’ book gained nine more drawings.

_ Others are meant to stay secret. _

_ Sometimes, people won’t give you that. _

_ But it isn’t meant to be given. It’s meant to be kept. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short compared to the other two, but I think adding more words would just take from the value... I don't know. I hope this is a good ending? Let me know what you think. (Please?)

**Author's Note:**

> I have writer's block, and this is the first thing I've been able to write for a week or so. I don't know if I'll finish in a week or a month or if I'll never come back to it - I guess it depends on how much people want me to continue.
> 
> Feel free to make a few suggestions, point out typos, or give any kind of feedback, really. <3


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